Black Balloons
by Randomality
Summary: Just another day for Laguna, ten years after being elected as the President of Esthar.


Standard Disclaimer: FFVIII belongs to Square-Enix, yadda yadda yadda… You know the rest.

A/N: It looks like there's going to be a delay in getting the next chapter of "One Good Shoulder" out, so here's a little something out of my file archive. I rediscovered it in the abyssal depths of my hard drive recently. It's just a one-shot drabble type of thing, though.

* * *

_Black Balloons_

Laguna stared up at the luminescent sky blue ceiling as he floated in the pool, wondering again just how it glowed like that. He could stare at it and stare at it and it would never hurt his eyes, yet the entire cavernous room was lit like it was noonday. Backstroking, he swam to the edge of the pool.

"On second thought," he said to himself, "I don't wanna do another round of laps."

Another man's voice echoed in the room, "I was wondering how long you were going to spend in here. Had enough of a workout?"

Laguna hauled himself out of the water and looked up at the tall, dark man in the white robes that were the normal garb of state in Esthar. "Oh, hey, Kiros. Yeah, I've had enough. I gotta admit, though, this space training stuff sure keeps a guy in shape. Gets me away from the desk, too."

Kiros chuckled and crossed his arms as Laguna quickly dried himself off. "Speaking of, there's a nice big stack of papers waiting for you that haven't been slept on yet."

The smaller man groaned, "Already? Man... I just got through the last batch! Y'know, I'm really glad we got that item veto thing pushed through. Have you seen some of the stuff they've tried to sneak in! It's like they think that I'm stupid and won't read through their overworded crap. I keep telling them every Session to keep things short and easy to understand. I don't want to sit there and translate everything before I know it's okay to pass it."

Kiros nodded, he had heard this rant many times before. Time and time again, he found himself surprised at how seriously his usually happy-go-lucky friend took his job. He had lost count of the mornings he had walked into the President's office, only to find Laguna sleeping on papers marked with multiple colors of ink. Dictionaries, the thesaurus, and various books on Esthar law were usually found scattered about the desk, the floor, the side tables, and any other surface within arm's reach of Laguna's chair.

Laguna was still ranting as walked to the locker room. "I so understand how the heck Adel stayed in power for so long now. Having Sorceress powers and looking scary beyond all reason was only part of it. Let some key people get all fat and rich off the suffering of others, give them glory and power and they'll do freaking anything to keep it. Those jackasses ain't gonna get rich off of me. Not the way they did with Adel." His hand cut through the air as he spoke to emphasize his point.

"At least it's over now," Kiros replied.

"Yep. Besides, not many of the old Councilors are left now. That's cool. The newer ones aren't so messed up, though there's one or two that are learning tricks from the old dogs." Laguna opened his locker and began to change into his clothes. "Hey... I gotta be at Session this afternoon, right? This one is on the status of the internal defense programs an' their budgets?"

"Right and right. It's in a half-hour."

"Cool." Then Laguna did a double take, aquamarine eyes widening. "What? Half-hour! How long was I... Crap." He rubbed the back of his neck and gave a sheepish shrug. "Heh, time kinda got away with me."

"As it usually does," Kiros nodded. "Chow will have to wait until after. I'll make sure it's waiting in your office when Session gets out."

"Cool. Thanks, Kiros."

Laguna finished dressing in his untucked white shirt, khakis, and sandals. There was no time or need to be in anything less casual at the moment. After making a mad dash to the lift, dogtags jangling as he ran, he keyed it to go to the stop closest to his apartment. Darting into his modest quarters, he changed from the casuals to a dark suit. Today's hasty choice was a crisp white shirt with high collar and no tie, dark blue vest, black pants, black shoes, and black jacket. It was time for business. True, it wasn't the traditional robes of state, but he didn't want anyone to forget that he wasn't a native of Esthar. This wasn't his home. He just worked here.

Hair brushed and tied back, he picked up the briefcase that held the papers and schedules that he would need for today's Session. Having aides and assistants was really, really cool. He didn't know how he would keep things together without them.

Jogging back to the lift, he had it zip to the Council Chamber, where the Session would be held. The Council Chamber was a massive room, where the twenty-four Councilors elected from each of Esthar's districts would meet. A giant C-shaped table dominated the floor with twenty-five seats stationed at it. The crystalline pale blue surface was smooth and there was a thin computer screen stationed at each seat with touch controls glowing within the tabletop. A clear pitcher of water and a glass was set for every seat, as well. In the middle of the floor, the table encompassed a holoprojector. Suspended high above that was a series of large screens so that the audience in the gallery above the main floor could have a view of what was going on upon the screens below. A clear space on the floor faced the holoprojector and the apex of the table. Also facing the holoprojector were more seats, where guest speakers and more dignified audience members would watch the proceedings. Cameras were set up around the room to capture and broadcast each Session to all of Esthar on a public channel.

Laguna entered the Council Chamber and slipped into his seat at the apex of the table. Papers were brought out of his briefcase and water was poured into the glass. He was ready to go. He was just in time too. Almost the entirety of the Council was present, save for a few. He noted that old Theodore was missing, but he would grant the old, frail man some leeway. The elder Councilor was weak of heart in his advancing years. Laguna has a fondness for the old man from the rural breadbasket of Esthar. Of all of the old guard, Theodore was the only one that he could risk trusting and the elder was a strong supporter of the foreign-born President. One of the younger Councilors, a woman who was recently elected from the district near Tear's Point, was also absent. He couldn't quite recall her name yet, but he figured that he would learn it sooner or later. Eventually, the latecomers entered, the younger woman helping the ancient man to his seat. Laguna felt a frown pull at his face. If old Theodore wasn't well, shouldn't he abstain? Or retire? Though he would be sad to see him go. But it was bound to happen, one way or another.

With everyone present, Laguna stood, bringing the room to attention as they stood with him and quieting the thunder of voices.

A man whose job was to call out the opening and closing of the Session gave his line. "Council Session one-hundred and twenty is now beginning. President Laguna Loire is present."

One-hundred and twenty? Laguna blinked as he took his seat. Had there been that many since he ascended to office? _Whoa..._ "Alright," he addressed the Council and the galleries. "Let's get moving. First up is the budget allotment proposal for police soldiers to be given nonlethal weapons for city patrol, specifically rods charged with sleep spells. Councilor Kherson, you're the champion of this proposal; you have twenty minutes to present. Make is short and easy to understand."

Actually, Laguna had been looking forward to this part of the Session. He had read through the written proposal the night before, when it had finally emerged from beneath the piles of papers on his desk. It seemed like a cool idea. If Kherson presented well enough to convince his fellow Councilors, he would certainly give it the final approval.

Within the first year of Laguna's tenure, he began imposing time limits on arguments and rebuttals. Otherwise, Councilors would stall things out by talking and arguing to no end right on the floor. They would slide issues in that really had nothing to do with the matter at hand. In other words, they made things messy and confusing, which Laguna didn't like at all and it made him cranky. He didn't like being cranky. So, he started timing them. Twenty minutes would be on the clock for presenting, no matter what position one had, unless there was an appeal for ten extra minutes beforehand. The rest of the issue could be put into as much detail as desired in writing, which could be read through and thought upon elsewhere before the pertinent Council Session. Preferably somewhere comfortable that didn't require a suit for the cameras.

Eight hours rolled by. There had been an argument between a few of the Councilors about the district allocations of the monster control budget on the floor. Then some schmuck in the gallery started shouting about protecting the "majestic Marlboro" and its favorite prey when the Council finally agreed to increase the monster control budget for the eastern districts. Nevermind that the only reason there were a spike in the number Marlboros crawling about the eastern great plains was because of cutbacks in controlling the Mesermize population during the past couple years. Laguna didn't enjoy having to explain that point in detail himself, but he managed to get the spectator to quiet down.

Finally, Laguna made it to his office door and gave himself a good stretch before going in. His back popped in a few places and he pulled his hair out of its binding, letting the black mane fall to one side. Looking to his large and cluttered desk, he blinked. Black balloons? What were black balloons doing in here?

Kiros and Ward entered the room, grinning. Laguna pointed the to balloons. "What are those for? Who died?"

Ward shook in silent laughter, while Kiros shook his head. "Black balloons usually mean a fortieth birthday," the dark man informed, "Jeanne thought to bring them in."

Laguna blinked again. This was his head secretary's idea? But, who were they for? "Jeanne's forty?"

Kiros and Ward shook their heads.

"Kiros? You couldn't be forty already! Man..."

Again, they shook their heads. This time, they each clapped a hand onto Laguna's back. "Happy birthday, commander," Kiros grinned.

"No way..." Laguna shook his head, "It hasn't been that long. I'm only..." He counted up the years, trying to separate them out. "... Forty. Holy..."

Kiros chuckled at his friend again. "We figured that you should get out of your office more, so your dinner awaits elsewhere."

Ward made a tipping motion towards his silent mouth, still grinning. Kiros translated, "And a few stiff drinks."

Laguna nodded, "Yeah. I think I'm gonna need 'em. Whoa."


End file.
